BOYD
Fucking fuck. If I’d thought I was a screwup before, it was nothing like what I felt now. Disappointing Rob was par for the course. But hurting Audrey Ames? The female I wanted to spend the rest of my life with?
That cut like a fucking knife through my chest.
I sat in my truck, my thumb hovering over the screen of my phone.
Don’t call me, she’d said.
She hadn’t said don’t text.
Me: I’m sorry. Let’s talk.
After five minutes, then ten, nothing. “Shit!” I shouted.
It didn’t make me feel any better. She wasn’t going to respond.
I could show up at her office, but that wasn’t the place to talk.
I couldn’t disrespect her like that, in front of her patients or office staff, no matter how much I wanted to explain.
Should I write her a letter? A good old-fashioned letter? I could get the words out right, get them down on paper, so she could read them again and again until she believed me.
What was required in this situation that would make everything right?
I wish I fucking knew. I couldn’t fix what happened to my parents, and it seemed I couldn’t fix this.
Would it help to tell her about fate? About how my wolf picked her, and he only picked one female. The way we mated for life?
Or would talking about wolf stuff just annoy the fuck out of her right now? I’d only heard the tail end of what Karen had said to her, and I could imagine the rest. She was poison to the pack, and I had to deal with her, too.
I started to type another text, then deleted it.
No, a text wouldn’t do because I wasn’t a teenager.
I couldn’t fit all of what I wanted to say using my thumbs on my cell.
A letter. I needed to get it all in a letter.
Hell, I’d write her a thousand letters if I could just figure out what to say.
And for that, I needed to go home, sit down and get my shit figured out where she was concerned.
What did I want? Me. Not the pack. Not what Rob would do or want or expect.
I slammed my fist into the dash, cracking it. Funny, it didn’t feel as satisfying as I’d hoped. No, doing my usual irresponsible things felt wrong right now. Including that run I’d taken last night to avoid talking to Rob, even if that meant telling him to fuck off.
It was time to man up and solve my fucking problems.
I started the truck and drove home.
AUDREY
The universe was looking out for me because I ended up with three births and stayed at the hospital until two in the morning.
I had no idea what was in the water or the weather nine months earlier, but the population of Cooper Valley had exploded the past few weeks.
It was good to see young people and growing families in the community, but it was a reminder of everything I didn’t have.
When I got home, I found an envelope on my doormat with my name neatly scrawled across the front.
I looked around, but all was dark and quiet.
A dog barked in the distance, and I instantly thought of it being a wolf.
No, Boyd had put thoughts in my head… and a letter in my hands. I couldn’t believe he’d written to me. Who besides your Aunt Dorothy wrote letters?
Boyd did.
Don’t read it. Do not read it.
I tossed it in the trash can inside my door and went straight to bed. And stayed there. Fortunately, I was so tired from working… and from two previous nights of terrible sleep, that I was out cold.
The alarm jarred me awake, and I got up on auto-pilot, showered and went back to the hospital.
Coffee fueled me, and I tried to keep my mind a blank.
I couldn’t stop to think. I couldn’t slow down and realize my life had been turned upside down in a few short days.
Not any hot guy, but a hot guy who ended up being a wolf.
Nope, I wasn’t thinking about that. Nor about the way he made me feel when he got all protective.
The way he lit my body on fire. His smile. His touch. His dick as it filled me.
I couldn’t think about him because when I did, it literally felt like I had a huge gaping hole in the middle of my chest, as if I’d been the one gored by the bull. I’d fallen all right, and I didn’t have the ability to magically regenerate the way Boyd did.
I worked late again, volunteering to stay and cover for a fellow doctor who wanted to see her son’s little league game and celebrate over pizza.
Another thing I’d never get to do. When I got home, there was another letter on my doormat.
I threw it away. Showered. Climbed in bed.
This time, I barely slept. Went in early.
Doctors were no strangers to lack of sleep and long hours. In this case, it was a haven for me. A place I could bury my head and not ever think again.
Not ever feel again. Numb was good. Numb was safe.